Journal Entry: October 23, 1974

October 23, 1974
The wind is stripping the cedar fronds, hurling their golden fragments across street and yard. I heard the wind blowing in the dark when I went to bed. The sighing of trees was so loud and breathy that it could easily have been the voice of a larger-than-life goddess a’crying through the night.
Had a bit of fever in the evening. Taking vitamins to discourage the old ship from being dry-docked but the barnacles may get me yet.
Scratched a sorry bit of poetry down in the near dark of my bedroom about midnight, inspired by the wind and deep thoughts. I shouldn’t record it here as it hasn’t been polished and I’m not good at refinements of verse.
I wake at night to rain,
And warm in bed, hear
The cedars sigh in the wind’s embrace.
Fir needles tip-toe, dry and drunken
Across the redwood deck.

Beyond my window
The brook flows dark
And narrow over ragged stones.
Hold me through the moaning
Of trees.
Hark instead to love whispers
And let us
Sleep a little longer.

I shan’t apologize for failings and faults which are privy to one’s diary.

November 2, 1974 Saturday
Cloudy again after brief morning sun. If we don’t get a cold snap soon will have to plant the rest of my bulbs somewhere other than in the brick planter and geranium cart. The geraniums and petunias are blooming like mad. Yellow leaves on the Mountain Laurels show here and there as they do among the peonies. The honeysuckle vine has little bunches of red berries.

Published in: on October 1, 2018 at 8:26 am  Leave a Comment  

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